CHAPTER 181: CHAPTER 181: SELF-DIRECTED DRAMA

When Vivian’s right foot touched the ground, a sharp pain pierced through.

She gasped, lifted her foot, and slowly turned it to the side...

A thumbtack was embedded right in the arch of her foot!

The sock was already stained with blood!

The backstage dressing room had fallen silent due to her scream, and all eyes were on her. When they noticed her injured foot, everyone gasped, eyes wide with shock.

"Senior, what happened?" a young girl asked anxiously.

"Quick, get the team doctor!"

Vera noticed something was wrong, removed her headphones, raised her eyes to look over, her brows lightly furrowed.

Vivian lifted her head, her gaze swept over the crowd, her voice tinged with tears and trembling,

"Why is there a thumbtack in my dance shoe?"

The crowd looked at each other with shock written all over their faces.

At the critical moment of the second round of the selection competition, a thumbtack appeared in Vivian’s dance shoe?

"Who... who would do such a thing?" someone murmured in disbelief.

In an instant, several suspicious glances floated subtly towards Vera’s direction.

Vera felt those eyes on her.

She glanced at Vivian, then looked around at the surveillance cameras operating on the walls, and spoke loudly:

"No need to guess, there’s surveillance."

Vivian looked at her, tears in her eyes, her voice a bit stern, "What are you all thinking? How could Senior do such a thing!"

The girls hastily waved their hands, in unison: "I didn’t think that!"

"Neither did I!"

At this moment, Wendy Donovan and the team doctor rushed in.

"Vivian! What happened?" Wendy Donovan’s expression changed dramatically when she saw the bloody foot, immediately squatting down to check, her brows tightly knitted.

"Professor Donovan, Vivian Senior said someone put a thumbtack in her dance shoe!" someone hurried to answer.

Wendy Donovan suddenly raised her head, her gaze like a knife scanning every face in the room.

"In my dance troupe, something like this happened?" She couldn’t believe it, her voice authoritative, "It’s simply absurd!"

Wendy Donovan stood up, her chest slightly heaving, "This matter must be thoroughly investigated! I want to see who dares use such vile tactics!"

Vera interjected: "Professor Donovan, the surveillance should have caught everything."

Wendy Donovan nodded heavily, her gaze sweeping over the crowd again, "Until the results come out, I don’t want to hear any baseless speculation."

"Now, everyone focus on preparing for the competition!"

At this point, the team doctor pulled out the thumbtack, Vivian endured the pain, clutching the hem of Wendy Donovan’s sweatshirt, "Professor, please don’t be upset, and don’t let my issue delay everyone’s competition."

Wendy Donovan’s expression remained serious, she didn’t respond to her, instead, she asked the team doctor: "Director Lewis, can Vivian’s foot still compete?"

Director Lewis, holding the tweezers with the thumbtack, adjusted his glasses, "The tack is new, fortunately not rusty, and the wound isn’t swollen—"

"Director Lewis, please just treat it simply, stop the bleeding. I can endure the pain, but missing this competition, I cannot endure that." Vivian cut him off decisively, "I cannot let those who try to stop me from competing succeed!"

Everyone was stunned.

Soon after, the news of Vivian’s foot injury spread, and the influencer live-streaming the competition slipped backstage, capturing Vivian’s injury but calmly waiting for the competition.

Coincidentally, at the Grant Residence, in the flower room.

Nathan Grant, the "considerate coat," accompanied Rosalind Morgan in the flower room applying autumn fertilizer. He cleverly turned on the live stream of the dance troupe selection to let his mother continue witnessing Vera’s glory.

Instead, it turned out to be the news of Vivian being sabotaged and injured.

Mixing liquid fertilizer, Rosalind Morgan suddenly paused.

"Vivian’s dance shoes were tacked before the competition, clearly indicating someone didn’t want her in the finals!"

"In the whole dance troupe, only she and Vera are hot candidates to represent Lorraine! The others are just supporting roles!"

Nathan Grant grumpily turned off the live stream, "They actually suspect Vera! I think that Vivian, unable to match Ms. Sheridan, staged a self-directed ruse, giving herself an excuse for losing!"

"Mom, please don’t be fooled!"

Rosalind Morgan didn’t reply, only slowly stirred the liquid fertilizer in the spray can with a stick.

Nathan Grant immediately called his brother.

On the other end, Noah Grant was in the dance troupe’s monitoring room, his subordinates were adjusting the surveillance, reviewing every angle of the backstage, frame by frame.

Nobody could sling mud at Vera!

...

The competition began.

This round focused on the interpretation of classic ballet roles.

Vera was the first to take the stage, performing the first act "Rural Encounter" from "Giselle."

A pure and kind village girl Giselle falls in love with the nobleman Albert, disguised as a farmer, unaware of his true identity. Forester Hans, out of jealousy, reveals Albert’s noble identity and his engagement to the duke’s daughter Bathilde.

Under the dual blow, Giselle’s mental collapse leads her to tear up the necklace gifted by Bathilde, and she dies heartbroken.

On stage, Vera’s basic skills were impeccable as always.

But what truly moved the audience was not these techniques.

When the truth of her lover’s betrayal was revealed, she collapsed silently to the ground, her shoulders sinking without a sound, and though she did not wail, the audience could feel her deep despair and heartbreak.

In the darkness, Noah Grant sat, his gaze locked on the glowing figure on stage.

Beside him, Old Madam Grant clutched his wrist tightly, tears in her eyes, fully immersed in Vera’s performance.

The other audience members shared her sentiment.

Even when Vera bowed gracefully at the end of the performance, the audience hadn’t fully emerged from their emotional state.

It took a while before enthusiastic applause rang out.

Old Madam Grant said, "Vera is truly dancing with her life! Not only does she have to train hard, but she must also invest in her role to convey emotion, which is much more arduous than the actors on TV. She is a true artist."

Noah Grant applauded, his handsome, mature face showing pride between his brows and eyes.

At that moment, his phone vibrated.

On the other end came the result of the surveillance check: no one was found to have tampered with Vivian Langdon’s ballet shoes.

Evidently, it was self-directed by Vivian, though she didn’t frame Vera Sheridan.

Noah’s long fingers tapped lightly on his knee as he pondered Vivian’s motive this time.

Seeing Vera’s near-perfect score being revealed, he informed the old lady and got up to leave.

Vera was also curious about Vivian’s intentions behind this act.

Vivian participated in the competition with an injury.

This time, she had clearly improved technically compared to before, even managing a silent landing just like Vera during the grand leap!

The height of her leg extensions, the speed of her spins—every technical measure was flawless.

However, her performance was full of a sense of design.

Her sadness was a calculated downturn of the lips; her despair was precisely mimicked body language.

She was demonstrating Giselle’s heartbreak, not experiencing it.

The audience could see her brilliant, dazzling technique but could not shed a tear for her "suffering."

The judges hesitated with their scores. One judge took the microphone and asked Vivian, "Vivian, do you know the difference between your performance and Vera’s?"

Vivian held the microphone, smiling as she shook her head, "Teacher, please go ahead and tell me."

A senior domestic dancer and artist judge hit the nail on the head: "Only technique, no soul; only imitation, no experience; only formulaic, no true feeling."

Hearing this, the smile on Vivian’s lips froze slightly, and the next instant, she took a sharp breath, which resonated from the stage through the microphone.

The judges and audience saw her right foot’s tip touch the ground, her eyebrows tightly knit in a look of enduring pain.

"Sorry, teachers and audience, before the competition, I had a minor accident with my right foot; it was pierced by a tack," Vivian bowed and apologized.

"Indeed, during my performance, I was affected by the pain and couldn’t fully immerse myself in the role, so I used some performance techniques for support," she explained sincerely.

Backstage, Vera watched the screen and instantly understood why Vivian had injured herself!

When one is not as skilled, at least there’s an excuse to explain!

Another judge spoke up, "There has always been controversy between the academic and experiential schools, and I believe Vivian’s acting tonight was perfect in achieving a viewing effect!"

Vivian bowed in gratitude.

As she lifted her head, she saw the big screen displaying her score tied with Vera’s, and she secretly gripped the microphone tightly.

It was a best-of-three competition.

She lost the first round to Vera, tied this one, and even if she wins the third, it’ll still be a tie!

Vivian felt unsettled inside.

She paid the price in blood, yet it was only a tie with Vera?!

This was not the result she wanted!

She must attend Lorraine, she must win the gold, and win back Rosalind Morgan’s heart!

Returning backstage, she saw a group of girls surrounding Vera’s makeup table, admiring a bouquet of roses.

Each rose was a vintage milk tea pink cappuccino, gentle and elegant.

Obviously, they were from Noah.

Vivian’s gaze was seared. Back then, backstage at the Corinian Royal Theatre, the sense of security Noah gave while helping her escape danger, the warmth of his chest and masculine scent, were still so vivid...

The wound under her foot throbbed with a needling pain as Vivian’s fingertips dug deep into her palm.

Returning to her seat, she expressionlessly opened her social media account and posted a status update:

The pre-competition incident was startling, but once on stage, everything was worth it.

Thank you to everyone who cares about me, I’m doing well. Just suddenly felt, why is it sometimes so hard to simply want to dance well...

Attached photos: one of her gracefully taking a bow after the performance, and one close-up of the ballet shoes.

Upon seeing Vivian’s "sentiment," coupled with the previous tack incident, her fans immediately erupted.

"Hug for Vivian! Persevering with an injury is so heartbreaking!"

"Is it so hard to simply want to dance? Some people’s tactics are just too dirty!"

"Who could have had the motive backstage besides ’that one’? Those who understand, understand!"

"The close-up of the ballet shoes made me tear up, the culprit must be thoroughly investigated!"

Their implications were obvious, heavily hinting at Vera Sheridan.

However, the official dance troupe soon released a statement: after repeatedly reviewing all backstage footage, no suspicious individuals were found to have tampered with Vivian’s ballet shoes.

...

Vera left the theater with the bouquet of roses, her eyes searching for Noah’s car.

Owen’s voice came through her Bluetooth earpiece, "Sis, will Noah accompany you back this time?"

Three days later was the 20th anniversary of her mother’s death, and she had to return to her hometown to sweep the grave and pay respects.

She hadn’t yet mentioned this to Noah.

She sensed Owen’s probing intent.

Just then, a call came in from Noah.

Vera switched to the call.

"Vera... sorry, I have an urgent matter and must fly to Bernheim immediately, I can’t come to pick you up." Noah’s voice was low, tense, clearly strained.

Hearing his anxiety, Vera responded considerately, "Mm, it’s alright, work is important, take care of yourself."

After speaking, she instinctively asked, "When...will you be back?"